


Infrequent but Worthwhile

by MoMoMomma



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Incest, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 13:40:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1746662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoMoMomma/pseuds/MoMoMomma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As it turns out, John should pay a little more attention to why the voice on the other end of the phone sex line sounds so familiar. </p>
<p>Or not...since it worked out so well this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Infrequent but Worthwhile

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cyberrat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberrat/gifts).



> Stiles is 16 in this and while there's no physical touching, it's still sexual content so I slapped the underage warning on there just to be sure. I'm slowly getting back into writing!

It’s not like it’s something that John does often, alright? It’s….infrequent at best. He’s got a busy life, he doesn’t really have time for it, nor does he often have the inclination. But nights like tonight, when he leaves the station hearing the other men chatting about date night or the women talking about how their partner has something special planned, the loneliness hits harder.

And sends him to his room, locking the door securely and digging in the drawer for an old pre-paid phone he’s had for a few years.

Not like this is something he wants popping up on a bill Stiles might see.

John gets comfortable on his chair while the dial-tone sounds, punching through the options with only minimal guilt and waiting silently until there’s a click and a purr fills his ear.

“Hi there, my name is Jason.”

John’s past feeling guilty or awkward about this part. That comes later. Though there is a slight hesitation because this kid? Does _not_ sound like a Jason.

“Hey, uh, I just….need a little release, I guess.”

“Not one to beat around the bush.” The voice isn’t as high as John normally gets but he finds he doesn’t mind. “I like that. What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“John.” No point in lying, it’s a common enough lie for a name that no one ever suspects it’s his real name. “But that’s...uh...that’s not what I want you to call me.”

“Oh~” He can hear the grin and _this_ , this is where it gets awkward. Made even more so by the niggling feeling in the back of John’s mind that he _knows_ this voice.

But it’s not like he hasn’t thought that before.

“What do you want me to call you then?”

“Uh…” This is where John trips up. Sometimes he can get it out quickly, like ripping off a band-aid, other times he stutters and stammers his way through it like he’s back in high school.

Sometimes he gives up completely and doesn’t even say it.

Luckily enough, for him, this boy almost seems to know.

“I can do anything. Master, sir, anything you wanna hear. Or maybe something...better? Something like...Daddy?”

“ _Yes_ ,” John exhales the word on a sigh, resting a hand over his thickening cock, rubbing the material of his pants against it idly. “Yeah, that’s...that’s what I want.”

The chuckle he hears isn’t mocking or rude, more like happy non-verbal agreement.

“I can definitely call you Daddy. But what kind of a Daddy are you? Are you gonna be rough, take me over your knee and spank me for being bad? Or is my good Daddy going to make me come over and over until I’m snuggled up next to him?”

“Wanna make you come.” John murmurs, hearing the soft exhale on the other side. “Wanna fuck you so well you forget about anyone else.”

“Why would I need anyone else? I’ve got my Daddy, there’s no one better.”

“That’s right.” John says, shoulders relaxing as he lets himself fall into the soft voice, cupping his hand just a bit closer to his cock and rubbing a thumb over the head. “But you’re young. You still might want something else.”

“How old am I, Daddy?”

John’s gotten this far before and lied. Lied through his fucking teeth about it because _how_ is he gonna say something like this. Legal in some states but not in theirs. Only once had he ever said what he was thinking and while the boy on the other end had been professional about it, not letting it stop them in the slightest, John had felt like there was tension there that hadn’t been before.

But for some reason, maybe it’s the exhaustion of the work week, maybe the fact that he’s alone in the house--Stiles off doing something with the pack, or so he’d shouted over his shoulder on his way out the door--John feels like taking a leap of faith again.

“You’re 16. Young enough that you’ll get bored with me.”

“I might be young, but I’m not stupid.” There wasn’t even a pause, no judgemental silence, and John feels something uncoil in his chest at that. “I know how good my Daddy is. Know how good you’d fuck me. Why would I want to play with other little boys when I can have my Daddy?”

“You wanna play?” John lifts his hips long enough to shove his sweatpants and boxers down to his knees, hissing softly at the cool air that hits his cock.

“Of course I do, Daddy. Wanna tease you a little, see if I can get you all riled up.”

“That might earn you a spanking.” John’s not one for being very verbose but in this...it almost feels natural.

“But what if I want a spanking, Daddy? What if I want to lay across your lap and let you spank my ass until it’s bright red because I was bad?”

John groans and takes ahold of his cock, pumping it slowly, wanting to drag this out for some reason. Maybe because he _swears_ he knows the voice, maybe because the fantasy is already so perfect.

“Not too red, don’t wanna hurt my baby boy.”

“Aw, but Daddy, you’d kiss it all better wouldn’t you?” There’s an honest to god whine in the kid’s voice and John’s cock jumps in his hand at the sound.

“Yeah. Yeah, I would, sweetheart. Lay you out afterwards and lick you open, make it all better.”

“Want it.” The moan interrupts the words and John shivers at the sound, low and hot in his ear. “Want you to lick me open, Daddy. Get me all wet and ready with your mouth.”

“I’m gonna.” A little faster now, brushing his thumb against the head on every upstroke. John’s never felt so hard in his life. “Gonna get you _soaked_ , darling. Get you so ready for my cock.”

“I’m already ready, want you to fuck me. God, I need Daddy’s cock so bad.”

“You’ve wanted it for a while now, haven’t you?” The pretense of hiding what he wants is gone. This is anonymous, regardless of his niggling doubt about the voice, and John’s too old to keep hiding what he wants. For all that person knows, this is a very well thought out fantasy. “Wanted me to fuck you?”

There’s a soft gasp that makes him stutter for a moment but then the whimper has him starting up again.

“How did you know, Daddy? I tried to keep it a secret!”

“Not very well. You’re always running around without a shirt, cuddling in close, calling me Daddy when you’re too old for that.”

“I guess I just wanted you so bad.” The whine is _very_ real and John wonders idly if the person on the other end gets off on this too. “Wanted my Daddy so badly I could barely think. I jerked off so many times thinking about you, Daddy. I couldn’t help it.”

“Yeah? Thinking about what? What did you do, honey? What did you want me to do to you?”

“Fucked myself open on my fingers, Daddy. Sometimes I had to stuff something in my mouth to keep from yelling for you. Not enough, though, never enough. Could never stretch myself open like you could.”

“Only your fingers?” There’s a flash of a mental image, the first he’s had since the call started, and John moans, bucking up into his fist.

Stiles, his gorgeous boy, kneeling on his bed, fingers stuffed into his hole as he jerks off, face shoved into the pillows to stop from crying out for him. John isn’t sure whether he’d want to see him in the daylight with his skin golden from the sun or at night, the moonlight making him seem almost _too_ pale, beautiful and _young_.

“Only my fingers, Daddy. Wanted to _feel_ you when you fucked me. Didn’t want anything but your cock to fuck me open.”

“So slutty.” The words are out before John can think about them, shifting the dynamic of the conversation, and there’s only a slight hitch of breath on the other end.

Which is better than an awkward pause because the kid got offended.

“For you, only for you, Daddy. Wanna be your little slut, let you fuck me anytime you want.”

There’s another image, one of John bending Stiles over the kitchen table before breakfast and eating him out until the boy is sobbing and scratching at the wood, desperate to come. God, Stiles would probably beg so prettily….

“Beg me.” John thinks for a second he’s going to need to clarify but then…

“Please, Daddy. Please fuck me. Wanna feel you stretch me open, fuck me stupid, fuck me so well all I can think about is your cock.”

John’s fucking his own fist at this point, fucking it like it’s his boy’s sweet hole. He can practically _hear_ Stiles in the begging voice on the other end of the phone, the way he slurs his words when he’s trying to beg for some new present. It’s a fucked up comparison but it makes his hips buck just a bit harder, the dirtybadwrong sending shudders down his spine.

“Daddy’s little slut. You’re Daddy’s sweet boy, aren’t you? Gonna be like this for me? Let me fuck you anytime I want?”

“ _Yes_! God, Daddy, want it so bad. Want you to just fuck me whenever you can, _wherever_ you can. Wanna be Daddy’s little fucktoy.”

“I’m gonna come.” John can barely think, the trained response blurting out of his mouth before he can stop it, years of partners demanding he warn them out of courtesy kicking in despite his delirious state. “Oh god, baby boy, I’m gonna come. Where do you want it?”

“Want it inside me.” The panting on the other end almost makes John think this kid really _is_ getting off just as much as he is, but the orgasm building fast steals his ability to ruminate on it. “Want you to get me sloppy with your come, Daddy. Want to feel you drip out of me, know that my Daddy did that. Filled me up so well.”

John tips his head back, hitting it painfully on the back of the chair as he comes, warmth spilling over his fingers. He’s so far gone, so wrapped up in the fantasy he finally got to play out, that it doesn’t even occur to him that he hasn’t shut his mouth since he started coming.

“ _Stiles_. Oh god, Stiles, baby, so good. Fuck, _fuck_ , you’re so good for me, sweetheart. Oh god, oh _fuck_.”

The realization hits hard, ice forming in his stomach and tightening his throat, wiping away all the feel good orgasm hormones rushing through his system. It’s complete and utter panic and the dead silence on the other end of the line has John straightening in his chair, gripping the arm so tight his knuckles ache, mindless of the fact that he’s smearing come all over it.

There’s a long pause, every second of it feeling like an eternity, before--

“Daddy?”

_Fuck_. There’s no way….it’s not possible.

“Daddy, please don’t be mad.”

Fuck every single deity that deemed this something that should happen.

“Daddy, I’m sorry! It doesn’t mean anything, it’s stupid and a quick way to make cash and I’m _sorry_. But Daddy, I want, I want it too!” Stiles is edging closer to panic now, his voice getting tight and fast. “Daddy, I want it all. Want you to fuck me, want you to spank me, I always have. Wanted you so bad for so long, Daddy, please, _please,_ don’t be mad at me.”

“Stiles, stop.” John’s voice comes out rougher than he wants and he quickly clears his throat, the parent in him trying to stave off the panic attack Stiles is no doubt teetering on the edge of. “Baby boy, stop. Breathe for me, alright? It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay.”

“But it’s _not_!” Stiles snaps, voice almost manic. “It’s not, it’s _not_. Daddy, I _want_ you. Wanna feel you fuck me and, and you want it too! Why, Daddy, why didn’t you just tell me? We could have been fucking this whole time! I wouldn’t have had to hide it, to fuck my fingers and wish they were yours. Daddy, please, please don’t be mad.”

“ **Stiles**.” The steel John puts in his voice makes him feel momentarily bad, when Stiles goes absolutely silent on the other end once he hears it. But it’s necessary. “Get home right now from wherever you are. Come home and we can talk about this, alright? I’m not mad, honey, but we need to talk about this.”

“You’re not gonna punish me?” Stiles’ voice is small and John hates the way his cock twitches when he hears it.

“No, honey. Not right now. I’m not mad, baby boy, I love you. But we’ve gotta figure out what we’re gonna do about this.”

“Okay.” Stiles lets out a gusting breath and waits for a split second before he speaks up again, the slight teasing tone in his voice making John groan. “Do you think spanking would be a good punishment for keeping this a secret?”

“I don’t think that’s a punishment at all.”

“It’s the _best_ kind, are you kidding?!”

“ _Stiles_!”

“Right! On my way home now, Daddy.” John will resolutely deny that he shivers when he hears Stiles murmur the word.

“Stiles, baby?”

“Hmmm?”

John glances down almost in amazement at the way his cock is already starting to thicken again, against all odds, spurred on by the thoughts of actually acting out his fantasy.

“Hurry home.”

Stiles’ laugh is just the right mix of amusement and lust and John growls into the phone before hanging up.

Either way, punishment or not, he was _definitely_ putting Stiles over his knee when he got here.

**Author's Note:**

> If you guys wanna scream about stilinskicest or watch me lose my mind over the new TW season, I'm momomomma2 over on Tumblr as well! :D


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